On my artistic works

Besides my work as an architect, I derive untold pleasure from immersing myself in the poetic sphere of visual expression.

Finally freed from the constraints of functional justification. Finally relieved of the burden of constructional frameworks.

No client, no principal, no specialist consultant, no knowall scrutinises your every pen stroke, or robs you of your pen, only to arrogantly inscribe his own identity problems into your work.

With his tampering in your architectural drawing, he compensates for his own creative impotence.

Here there is no orderer and no paymaster, nobody to whom I would have to justify any decision. Here I can dispense with all acknowledgement and
every success.

With my dreams, I do not wish to quarrel, nor convince or amaze anyone, nor show off or boast power.

These works one can only love but never hate; like bookmarks or hand warmers, one always carries them around ...

The themes of architectural and urban design, which so dramatically portray the visible cultural bearings of our cities, these themes ignite my passion, as the physical presence of the built environment has the potential to cause real damage to man. one must fight against stupidity and ugliness in the public space.

I cultivate flowers that never wilt, I dress dolls whose breath is never held, whose movements never flag.

Here I breath the fragrance of the colours, the walls soften into immeasurable dimensions.

Here where love and suffering is as blissful as it is exhausted; sputtered is the cry of pleasure and rattle of death.

I wish to round it off, this human fate, to tame the hatred that bears such endless misery, this world which adorns itself with every spherical splendour, all the while shaking its crust and unleashing furious breath, so that whole genera bleed to death.

I do not understand the meaning served to you daily from this brew of beauty and ugliness, life and destruction.
You sit motionless before this theatre, drawing your desperation deep inside and stammering your powerlessness into the din of the day.

Don't be too curious, the sun is blinding, the shade levels the depths; the day sinks and imbues your senses.

The silence of the picture themes with which I decorate my evenings is the space of my creation.